Inside World

I await under the sun and ask to the Known, "When will I no longer contemplate? When will my heart change its course? Only you know, oh God, and I love you for it." The grass tickles my thighs as I breath out prayers to the tune of recognition. A sad song which sings of pain, bitterness and tainted memories awaiting the succumber to this love that's within. It ends with a chiding- for how much more pain will there be in the end if one succumbs to potential wrong, than at the present if one doesn't?

Dreams which dare to stumble in the abounding chasms of change- to change a heart and its desire; to alter a mind and its relentless wanderings- your inside world sometimes won't let you (for it can be stubborn and slow to change). Mere soul under the sun, you may confidantly carry the head knowledge of what you know to be right, but own a heart on another course entirely. As exhausting as this can be- be patient- this takes but hope-encased time.